Finally he managed to get me back in my cart, and we set off once more.
From Elesberie we wandered across the back of the realm, though Wodestoch and Chinteneham and all the hamlets in between, until, finally, after some two weeks of uneventful if bone-chilling journeying, we reached Saint Mary’s Priory and monastery at Derheste on the Severn. The monastery here was only small, and while Ghent, myself and my women were housed in the monastic dormitories, the soldiers and grooms had to make do with the chillier loft above the stables.
My women and I went into the church to pray before our supper. Once done, I wandered about the beautiful, ancient church. One of the monks accompanied me, a man named Thomas, who pointed out the ancient font covered with strange spiral carvings as well as many of the other carvings in the church.
I came across one set of carvings that made me furrow my brow.
‘What beasts are these?’ I said, touching the stonework, so ancient it had worn quite away, making the original lines of the carving difficult to decipher.
‘Ah,’ said Thomas, touching them almost in reverence, ‘some say these represent wolves, some dragons. The people hereabouts believe them their protectors — whether dragons or wolves — and come to church to rub the figures with their fingers, and pray to them for safeguard.’
‘That is most un-Christian,’ I said automatically, but I remembered a similar story that Owain had told me, the wolves in my dream when I had died and the silver wolf who had wandered with my protector knight.
The wolves, always.
Thomas shrugged. ‘It can be difficult to wean people away from their ancient beliefs. The stories of the Old People are still told in the forests about here, and this church is very, very old. Built when respect for the Old People was strong.’
And now the Old People again. I thought of my sun-drenched knight, and wondered if he would still protect me even knowing I was wed to one of the Devil’s servants.
After Saint Mary’s Priory and Derheste we travelled through increasingly dense forests as we wended our way west. We were close to Wales now, only a week at most from Pengraic, and I looked forward to reaching the castle. It would be good to cease this travelling, and relax, and think.
The forests protected us from the worst of the wintry weather which still battered the country. Even then, some days we could not travel because of the storms, and had to wait out the winds and snow in some tiny hamlet or monastic outpost. Eventually we crossed the Wye at Godric Castle, and there enjoyed the hospitality of its castellan, Godric of Mappestone.
Godric was a goodly fellow, and happy for the company. We arrived at midday at his castle, and thus had time for rest before we enjoyed dinner about the fires of his large hall. Ghent and I sat at his high table, while Godric went to great lengths to ensure that the wife of the powerful Earl of Pengraic was well fed and entertained.
He was curious — and somewhat cautious — about our planned route through to Pengraic. ‘The forest of Depdene between here and Bergeveny is thick and dark this time of the year,’ he said. ‘The snow will be lying in great drifts on either side of the road and, in some places, even over the road. Your soldiers and groom may have to lay aside their weapons for shovels. I shall give you some, that you not be caught unawares.’
Ghent thanked Godric and asked if there were any other dangers.
Godric looked uncertain, flashing a concerned look at me.
‘If I must endure it,’ I said, ‘then I may as well hear it now, my lord.’
Godric sighed. ‘You must be careful to keep your company together, Ghent. The pickings in the Black Mountains have been poor this winter, and at least three packs of wolves have come down into the forest, hunting. They are thin and dangerous, and may attack any isolated outriders.’
‘They would surely not attack our company?’ I said.
Wolves? What was this — legend come to life?
‘Not if you stay together, my lady. And be sure at night, wherever you stay within reach of the Depdene, to keep your horses well stabled, for the packs will attack a horse.’
I shuddered, thinking of Dulcette.
‘We shall be careful, my lord,’ I said.
‘Thank you for your care.’
We rested with Godric for two days while poor weather blew over, then rode further into Depdene forest. Godric, worthy man that he was, had supplied us with not only shovels, but stores of dry food and cured hams in case we had to overnight within the forest at any point.
I hoped we should not have to do that, for I had taken to heart his warning of the wolf packs.
But we had to be careful. We were travelling on forest tracks rather than populated roads, and on our first day out we saw no one the entire morning of our travel.
We stopped for a brief meal about noon, then continued on our way, hoping to make Skenfrith Castle by nightfall. Despite our best intentions, our travel was slow. The track was poor, making it difficult for the two carts to travel at any speed. We twice had to stop so the soldiers could dismount and clear a path for us through the snowdrifts.
By late afternoon, as we travelled as quick as we might along the track, we could hear the baying of wolves.
‘They are far away,’ Ghent tried to reassure me, and, yes, at first they were. But they quickly drew nearer, and a little time later it was pointless to assume anything other than that a pack of wolves had scented our horses, or had heard our laborious passage through the forest, and were firmly on our track. Despite all the old stories and myths I had heard about the wolves being protectors, I was frightened. It was easier to believe these howling hounds were vicious predators than supernatural protectors.
Ghent bunched us together as tightly as possible, positioning soldiers to either side of my cart, riding close himself, sword drawn, eyes darting this way and that.
The howls of the wolves were now close in among the trees to either side of us, and sometimes I thought I could see a flash of their bodies as they ran. But soon even those flashes vanished as the weather set in, and a cold, grey mist enveloped us.
Ahead I could just make out that the forest drew back a little, and that we were coming to a clearing.
‘Perhaps we could stop here?’ I said to Ghent.
He shook his head. ‘No. We have to continue on. We cannot stop. We keep moving until we reach Skenfrith Castle. The moment we stop we are vulnerable.’
I hugged my mantle closer, calling out to Isouda and Ella, who rode horses, to keep as close to the cart as they could, and trying to reassure Gytha who sat white-faced and round-eyed next to me.
She must have been wondering at the wisdom of leaving the streets of London for the wilds of the Welsh Marches.
We trundled into the clearing, and I breathed a little easier, thinking that while we were so far distant from the trees the wolves would stay back.
But as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I heard Ghent exclaim, and our company ground to a halt.
I half rose, to see what obstructed our path, and froze as I saw.
A knight sat his courser fifteen or so paces before us, half obscured by the mist.
It was a magnificent white courser, its mane trailing on the ground, its tresses woven with diamonds which glinted but dully in this light.
I stared, realising that Ghent, as everyone else, could see him as well as I.
A wolf appeared out of the mist behind the knight, trotting up to sit by his courser.
It was a huge beast, silvery-grey, with pale, piercing eyes.
Then another wolf trotted out of the mist to sit with the knight, and another, until ten or twelve of them sat about the knight.
Ghent kicked his horse forward, his sword still drawn.
‘Ghent —’ I called, but either he did not hear me, or he ignored me.
Several among the wolves snarled as Ghent rode up to the knight but did not otherwise move. He pulled his horse to a halt some two paces from the knight, stayed still for several heartbeats, then he abruptly sheathed his sword, and rode his horse up to the knight.
They both reached out, grasping each other’s forearms in greeting.
Sweet Jesu, what was going on? I looked at the ground, wanting to get down and walk up to them, but I could not climb out by myself, and none of the soldiers would look at me, even when I spoke, so possessed were they by what happened up the track.